Pacifists with Guns
By Timberwolf220
DISCLAIMER: If I said I owned it, which one of you idiots would believe me?
A/N: ("") Are conversations that take place between Spike and Faye before their actual conversation near the end. They are tidbits, for humour purposes, if anything else.
WARNINGS: Some spoilers for Faye's past, but very, very slight. Mentions Session #5 (Ballad of Fallen Angels). Takes place slightly after Session#12-13 (Jupiter Jazz 1-2)
Faye Valentine has never killed anyone before.
Sure, she has a gun ("A girl can't walk around without some protection" was her excuse) and she was a good shot as well. It always helped, these skills in a galaxy that still seemed unfathomable as before when she woke up in that cryogenic chamber. For her, a small place to live in was fine (despite being a "World-wise woman" she said). So, despite the fact that she has never killed before, she knew exactly what a world did to the living and the dead and made her distinction in that world quite clear. She was going to live, thank you very much.
Then she met Spike and Jet. Jet was too up-tight for anyone's taste (probably because he was a cop, she reasoned, and the fact that he was older than her) and for him, the very word 'kill' seemed repulsive and he looked horrified that she had suggested it in the first place.
Spike was a different matter. In the encounter with Vicious, she saw with her own eyes what he could do. It was frightening and for the first time in years, she felt the pangs of fear coming to her door. It took all her control to make that call to Jet and get Spike out of that god-forsaken cathedral. Faye was quite certain if she ever went to a confessional, she would never be able to look a priest in the eye again. Of course, her walking into any place of worship was very unlikely ("Don't you gypsies have dark evil tribal Gods whom you sacrifice pigs to or something?" "Shut up Spike"), but people have been known to change.
But it made her curious. Doesn't Spike ever feel the need to wash his hands? Does he ever feel haunted by the blood on his gun? She's never killed, so she wouldn't know, but certain things haunt her at times. There is guilt among her whirlwind of dreams and she wonders how Spike can simply sleep his life away and look as if he's never had a care in the world ("You're just a country bumpkin Spike" "Well, I suppose we all can't be Romanies (2) now, can we?").
It was tempting, to say the least. To be that kind of person, never bogged down by any kind of fear. Well, it would be a lie to say Spike wasn't scared of anything. This 'Julia' female got him on the ropes and she was pretty sure that guy Vicious could scare the Devil into hiding. That could also apply to Spike ("Are you saying I'm like a devil? That's rude. After all the things we've done for you" "It was a compliment, you bumpkin")
So she asked him one day how he felt about killing. At first, he gave a typical Spike response.
"Well that was rude. Maybe I don't want to talk about it?" He shrugged, lying down on the tacky yellow couch.
Faye tapped her heel impatiently, her ears wincing at the screech of metal beneath her feet. Even after settling down, she wasn't used to the way things were done 50 years later ("Metal floor are so gauche" "Do you even know what that means?"), "Please?"
Spike shot a bemused look, "Why so interested?"
"Well, I've never killed anyone before," Faye said, sitting on the red armchair and stretching her legs luxuriously. Noticing that Spike was paying attention to what she was saying, she continued, "And I wonder what it felt like?"
"You shouldn't be so eager," Spike's voice was condescending, "Who knows? You might know soon enough."
Faye scowled at him, "You're treating me like a kid! I'm older than you!" She stuck her tongue out at him.
He smirked, not the least thrown off, "That's real mature Faye. Also, I've seen a lot more than you'll ever get to see," There was a hint of sadness in that statement and it made Faye soften her attitude a bit, "I guess it's because I was taught at an early age and it made me impervious to it, I guess," He shrugged, "I never really gave it much thought."
Faye tapped her chin, "How were you taught?" That was baffling. How can you teach someone how to kill? How to shoot, she can understand, but the way he said it, so casually was almost confusing.
Spike looked up at the ceiling fan and watched the blades whirl dully, "In order to succeed the Leader, they made me kill my father."
Faye's hands flew up to her face almost automatically and she could feel old memories press themselves against her head. She couldn't stop herself, the feelings pushing her down. Trying to recover her bearings, she croaked out an apology, "I'm sorry."
Spike shot her a puzzled glance, "What for? It certainly wasn't your fault I killed him," His eyes seemed to wrinkle at the memory, "In fact, I don't remember much about it except he was smiling when he died," Spike paused as he tried to recall it. It came to him, still as spotless as he remembered it, "It was a beautiful smile."
Faye couldn't slow don her breathing.
Killing his father….
"Spike, I…" Faye grasped at words, trying to cover her shock and pity. Spike hated pity, loathed it with a passion. ("There are so many things you can do with that extra energy, don't waste it grieving" "Or sulking" "I don't SULK!"), "H-How can you—,"
"I don't remember him very well," Spike said, "If I ever spent time with him, it was a blur to me and I cannot remember. I was either too young to recall them or I simply wanted to forget," His eyes were gently, "I always assume it was the latter because when I killed him, there was no guilt. And after that, killing was as natural as breathing. For me and Vicious," He paused at that name as if it gave him an unusual taste he couldn't quite place.
Faye wasn't sure about Spike's feelings towards Vicious, but she can tell they weren't homely feelings anymore and if anything, Spike might just end up killing Vicious. She wondered who would regret that action more, Spike or Vicious?
"I wish…" And Faye felt like spilling her secrets to him. She felt guilty and she wanted to make amends in any way possible.
"You wish what?" Spike said, "Don't waste your breath over it. If wishes were fishes, there'd be no place for water and we'd all cast nets (1)" He leaned back once more and closed his eyes, "Enjoy life while you can Faye."
Faye got up silently and walked away. She was planning to do just that.
This expression is now mine and no, I do not know who it is affiliated with.
Romanies: Gypsies apparently. Don't take Faye's word for it, though.
A/N: I've wanted to write a Spike/Faye friendship fic for ages now. For me, their relationship has always been purely platonic because of their similar thinking. This is why Spike takes care of Faye sometimes, because she can't take care of herself. Also, some references (dealing with Spike's father) made here can be seen through my other Cowboy Bebop fic 'Similar' which deals with Spike's history. So, if you want more info, go there.
Hope you guys enjoyed it and pop a review down there if you may!
